


I Could Never Imagine Someone Like You

by summerhall



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M, Spoilers for A Dance with Dragons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-14
Updated: 2011-08-14
Packaged: 2017-10-22 14:45:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/239195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerhall/pseuds/summerhall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Her army reaches the Wall on the first clear morning they've had in weeks. It appears even the snows bowed to Daenerys Targaryen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Could Never Imagine Someone Like You

She is nothing like what he expects. When men speak of the Dragon Queen they speak of a fierce warrior queen who rides out on her great black beast against all who defy her, of her vanquishing the Mummer's Dragon, the so-called Prince Aegon, with her own hands, of her joining together sellswords from across the Free Cities and Slaver's Bay as well as Lannisters and Baratheons and Tyrells and all other manner of men that would otherwise be slicing off each other's heads. They speak of such larger-than-life deeds that Jon assumes that Queen Daenerys herself must be just as large- he pictures an imposing woman, tall and robust with a commanding voice and presence that would rival Visenya.

Her army reaches the Wall on the first clear morning they've had in weeks. It appears even the snows bowed to Daenerys Targaryen.

Only it's Tyrion Lannister and Barristan the Bold that meet Jon at the gates of Castle Black, the thousands of Targaryen soilders behind them looking even more impressive when compared to the ragged band of Black Brothers behind himself. Tyrion, minus half of his nose, grins at Jon widely and shakes his hand vigorously, like a long lost friend. Jon supposes that he is. It feels like a thousand years ago when he came to the Wall with the Imp.

"The Wall is your's, or rather, your queen's. I admit, I was expecting to see a Targaryen leading a Targaryen army. What has happened to Queen Daenerys?" Jon looks behind them and sees nothing but soilders in all manner of dress stretching back for miles. No queen, no dragons.

Tyrion and Ser Barristan share a look. The Imp sighs and looks around at the sky, leaving the old knight to explain. "Her Grace's dragons grow restless at having to keep pace with the slow-going army. She fequently takes them out on distant flights to ...stretch their legs, so to speak."

Jon knew little and less about dragons, but it seemed to him that a queen leaving the protection of her guards and soilders wasn't very smart. He said as much.

Ser Barristan seemed to agree, but Tyrion only laughed. "Why my old friend, Queen Daenerys does have protectors about her- they're called Rhaegal, Viserion, and Drogon."

But the Imp's words were drowned out by a loud clap of thunder. Jon's horse startled, as did everyone's. As he fought to calm his mount, he heard his men behind him, their startled gasps, their pleas to their gods, their shocked curses. Tyrion was laughing again, a joyful expression on his face as he stared upward.

Jon looked to the sky.

Green and white blurs looped around each other swiftly, their wings beating out a thunderous noise, their screeching so loud that, for a moment, Jon feared it would cut right through the Wall. Suddenly, their dance ended and they descened to the ground, landing in the space between them and the Queen's army. They paced and snorted, smoke billowing from their large nostrils. 

Then a shadow fell over them, covering most of the Watch's honor guard. Their horses bucked and thew many of his brothers, some running back inside Castle Black, others running away. Jon's knuckles were white as he held onto his reins and turned his horse towards the field.

Daenerys Targaryen landed the black dragon between the other two and dismounted gracefully. She paused to pet the snout of the beast as if it were a horse, her hands roughly the size of one of it's eyes, before sauntering over to them. Jon dismounts and hopes that his horse won't run off or kick him in the face and make him look like a fool.

She is nothing like what he expects. Instead of tall and broad, she's small and slight, with womanly curves and a feminine face that would make men stare and stutter. He bends his knee into the snowy mud and bowes his head, telling himself that it's only the cold and the excitment that's causing his face to flush.

"Your Grace, the Wall is yours." Jon looks down at the mud and the snow and the queen's small feet and hopes that's the last time he'll have to say those words.

"Rise, Lord Commander Snow." Her voice, Jon is pleased to note, is exactly what he expected. Strong, authorotative, womanily. "Tell me, do my children frighten you?"

Jon Snow looks back at the dragons, each of them slightly steaming in the cold. The smallest one, the green one, looked to be larger than a horse, the white one even larger, and the black one rivaled the mammoths he'd seen beyond the Wall. He had no doubt that, between the three of them, they could turn this into another Field of Fire and roast every man alive. They were truely fearsome beasts, but did they strike fear into _him_?

Jon was surprised to find that they didn't. When he looked at them he felt a stirring in his blood, in his soul. He felt hope- hope for victory against the long night, victory for the realm.

"I know that they should frighten me, any sane man would be terrified of them, but I'm not." He supposes that makes him mad. _A mad man who knows nothing._

Daenerys Targaryen smiles at him, a wide and bright smile that makes her eyes twinkle and his stomach flip. "Jon Snow, I believe that you and I will get along very well."


End file.
